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" That's what he said," the man answered, " and he's send-
ing word oil to Mr. Sills and Mr. Murdock, too."

"Thanks," Mr. Munn said. And then: "Just drop back
into line, will you, please, Mr. Simmons."

" Excuse me," Mr. Simmons replied, and pulled his mount
back into the formation,

The column was rounding the comer, the nearest men little
more than an arm's length from the head of Mr. Munn's
mare. The men were laughing and shouting. Somebody
fired a double-barrelled shotgun into the air, the two barrels in
such quick succession that the reports almost blended.

Mr. Munn studied the flames above the roofs,

"By God!" a voice shouted from the column—"By God,
we done it!"

Another shot was fired, close at hand. The glass clattered
from the show window of a store beyond the column.

Another shout: " We done it!'*

The men kept swinging past, shouting and laughing. The
cloths had slipped down, carelessly, on their faces, or had
been removed now, Mr. Munn looked at his watch. Another
half-hour, he thought—no, three-quarters.

Three horsemen were riding alongside the column, ap-
proaching. One of them, Mr. Munn could see even before
they reached the corner, was Doctor MacDonald. He wore
no mask, now. He rode up, smiling, his lips drawn back and
his pipe stuck between his teeth. "Hello," he said, almost
casually. He had not removed the pipe.

When he drew up, Mr. Munn said in a low voice, " I hear
you had some trouble down the hill?"

"Yes," Doctor MacDonald answered, "but I gave some-
body some trouble, too." Then he looked sharply at Mr.
Mimn's face. "Listen," he said, "don't let it prey on your
mind. If a man's in a fight, he don't look to see whether or
not his gun's got a pearl handle and a monogram,'1

" It's too bad," Mr. Munn remarked soberly.

"Son, the good Lord never got any thousand or so nam
together for any purpose without a liberal assortment of §o»-